


The Hospitable Hotel

by amordantia



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Books, Coffee, Declarations Of Love, Dessert & Sweets, Dinner, Don't copy to another site, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay, Gay Sex, Hot Chocolate, Hotels, Insecurity, Literary References & Allusions, Literature, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Rain, Rescue Missions, Sweet, Sweet/Hot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-13 11:17:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18939847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amordantia/pseuds/amordantia
Summary: While on a mission to rescue the Baudelaire children, Jacques Snicket and Larry reconvene in a quaint hotel for dinner, conversations, and, to each of their surprise and happiness, something more.





	The Hospitable Hotel

**Author's Note:**

> Brief mention of a stab wound, but don't be alarmed, it's nothing too graphic or anything.
> 
> I've stumbled upon this rare pair, fell in love, saw there were very little fics to read, so I decided to contribute!  
> I hope neither men are OOC and it's been a bit since I've written, so everything might be a bit rusty. This fic is meant to take place near the end of the Ersatz Elevator and right around the time Jacques and Olivia go to the town of V.F.D. in search of the Quagmires and Baudelaires, though obviously Jacques didn't go (how could they do us dirty like that kill him off??).
> 
> A lot of references to literature and myth, including quotes from Jack London, Rumi, Oscar Wilde, and Paulo Coelho. Basically where anyone quotes something is from an actual book, poem, myth, or addage. Nevermind the publication dates.
> 
> A quick note that my progress halfway through was left unsaved (my mistake and it was frustrating) so if the ending feels rushed that's why.
> 
> As always, no beta reader with me so any mistakes I wholeheartedly apologize for and I hope you enjoy!!

Agents of the V.F.D., if only momentarily, found a quiet hotel to rest in before continuing their search for the Baudelaires. Specifically, two agents in question shared a room with one bandaged and sat at a small dining table, though both appeared tired from the long day of work.

"Lucky we got to this hotel in time to book a room. Even well trained agents need their rest. Particularly handsome ones who have received wounds," a man, a smile on his lips, quipped.

"Surely, Jacques," another man replied with a note of sarcasm, though not as biting as he likely intended if his drooping eyes were any indication.

"Falling asleep already, hm, Larry?" Jacques asked, turning toward him as he finished unbuttoning his jacket.

"Keep doing that and I won't be." Larry chuckled as Jacques' jacket fell off his shoulders and he draped it, spread out, on a plush armchair.

"Surely you wouldn't be opposed to dinner?"

"Guess not. Can we order in?" Larry asked.

Jacques' eyes grew softer and the stress of the day melted away, if only a little bit, from the look of tension leaving his shoulders lower than they were before, "Of course."

Room service had their orders of pasta (Larry) and a lettuce and bacon sandwich (Jacques) along with hot chocolate (it was raining, cold, and both men enjoyed callbacks) ready and served to them in a half hour at the small, circular table in the main entrance of their room.

As Larry stuck the pasta from his plate onto a fork, he couldn't help but think of their mission and of the past. So many ghosts haunted them, alive and dead.

Beatrice, beloved, beautiful, gone.

Her children now left to traverse the world alone, unwanted, and fighting to survive.

Of course, both Larry and Jacques knew that any one of the V.F.D. agents would gladly keep the Baudelaires safe, fed, and in a proper home if it weren't for those who would rather take such things away. They would take the Quagmires, too, and any other lost, innocent souls troubled and stolen from a deserved, happy life from those who'd cast aside reason, compassion, and literature.

Larry startled as he felt a hand on his own.

"Hey, what are you thinking about?" Jacques asked softly.

"Just, uh," Larry began, "Well, our mission. Always the mission, really. What are _you_ thinking about?"

Larry sipped from his mug, the hot chocolate a warmth as the minuscule marshmallows melted on his tongue.

"Well, would you believe me if I said I'm thinking about how dashing you looked in that golden tuxedo?"

"At-at the auction?" Larry stumbled over the question.

"Yes, at the auction," Jacques said before drinking his own hot chocolate. "I'm very glad Jacquelyn and Olivia were able to go after Olaf and the Quagmires before we could lose them once it ended."

Larry hummed, absentmindedly tracing the bandage on his abdomen that wrapped around a wound inflicted by Olaf that very afternoon. Larry silently cursed the man's knife hidden, rather cleverly or at least conveniently, in his cane. Who even carried such a thing, anyhow?

In any event, Jacques caught Larry when Olaf struck and didn't have time to go after him. In the time Jacquelyn and Olivia did, Jacques was busy tending to Larry.

"Feeling better?" Jacques asked, dark eyes trained on Larry's short sleeved shirt.

"A bit. It should heal up in no time," Larry said, eating more of his meal.

For a few minutes, they merely listened to the rain thudding on the hotel's window pane while finishing their food and hot chocolate.

Larry felt his skin prickle and he glanced up to see Jacques drinking the sight of him in, if the look on his face was anything to go by.

"What?"

"Pardon me for thinking so, at least given our mission, but it's been so long since I've seen you and.." Jacques trailed off, "I'd forgotten how handsome you are. Not to mention kind, polite, loyal, determined--"

Larry felt a flush creep up his neck and cheeks, "Jacques, I think we both know that out of the two of us, you're definitely the more attractive man. And the better one."

Jacques let a smile slip on his lips at that. "Ah, but Larry, you have such a sweet, well-read demeanor. Not to mention varied knowledge and experience in menial tasks. Working from the shadows, I believe I once referred to it as."

"Sweet--" Larry sputtered, unable to process anything else Jacques said after that, "Really? Sweet?"

Jacques shook his head. "I did just drink a particularly sugary, hot beverage, so maybe I'm becoming an expert on these things, in part from the cold brought on from the storm, but also because.."

"Because?" Larry echoed.

"Well, I wanted to share a particularly hot and sugary beverage with you."

Larry grinned. "Surprising, I'd say, given you make tea too bitter."

"Do I?" Jacques quipped as he leaned in, closer to Larry while squeezing his hand.

"Uh, w-well, yes, yes, you do," he mumbled. "But I, uh, don't particularly.. mind.."

Larry felt himself leaning in as well, eyes beginning to close.

"Larry," Jacques spoke, hanging onto his name like it was a lifeline, lips so close they nearly brushed against Larry's, "While words can, perhaps, be our mightiest weapons in a vast world of ignorance, I insist you don't use any more and just.. kiss.. me."

The last word was pressed against Larry's lips, washing away just as the desperately clinging beads of water on the window were, as they kissed.

And kissed.

And kissed.

Jacques' hand trailed up Larry's, then to his wrist, then forearm, before slipping up to his neck. His thumb brushed over Larry's collarbone while his other hand slid along Larry's thigh.

Larry felt more heat rush into his face, likely burning red against the cool tones of the hotel's drapery, carpet, and bedspread.

"I missed you," Jacques said against Larry's mouth, "so much. I was scared you wouldn't make it after that horrible freezer incident."

"You warmed me up well enough," Larry remarked.

Jacques laughed, a soft thing quieter than the drops of rain hitting the hotel walls. Quieter than the thoughts of either man in the moment right before they fell asleep, quieter than slow, low music playing at a ball, or the hushed notes of a piano in an estate. It was sweeter than any pastry, kinder than any act, the best music Larry had ever heard.

He fell happily into another kiss, welcoming Jacques' hands on his neck and leg, feeling alive and whole and wanted.

They broke off, Jacques with a rather glossy look in his eyes.

"We should.. get ready for bed," he said against Larry's lips, though it didn't sound like a dismissal; his words were like a promise.

Larry nodded and they called a hotel worker to clear the dishes. Jacques changed into a plain black night shirt and pants while Larry wore striped grey night clothes.

They sat on the bed, dark blue comforter illuminated by the dim yellow lighting of lamps.

Jacques' hand met Larry's, fingers weaving in between each other's.

"Can I have this night with you, Larry?" He asked, eyes trained on the carpet before him.

"A night without car chases or ridiculous disguises?" Larry offered.

"Without talk of sugar bowls or evil schemes," Jacques replied.

"With you," Larry whispered, "Being with you. Sleeping beside you."

Jacques brought his hand up to press a kiss to the back of it. "I had much more than sleep on my mind, but if you want that, that's fine, too."

"No, Jacques, I mean.. I _do_ want you," Larry explained, "I want this."

Jacques leaned in again, muttering, "'The proper function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them. I shall use my time.'"

His lips brushed against Larry's, lightly at first. As the kiss deepened, Larry couldn't help but think of Jacques as a spark that would rather burn in a furious fire of fascination and fighting. If nothing else, Jacques was a noble, well-read man, eager to protect, to save, to give until he had nothing left to give. Sacrifical, a martyr where Larry was only a pariah, but so, so compassionate and driven.

Larry loved him for it, though he could never understand why Jacques could feel a modicum of that emotion toward him.

They kissed as Jacques' free hand trailed along Larry's leg.

"'Never,'" Jacques began, punctuating each word with a kiss, "'love anybody who treats you like you're ordinary.'"

Larry sighed into the next kiss, feeling like melting marshmallow fluff in particularly sugary, sweet beverages or brilliant stardust sparkling in the night sky.

Jacques slipped Larry's shirt off, hesitating for a moment as his fingers brushed the bandage.

"Will you be all right?"

"I thought you quoted Wilde to make me feel extraordinary?"

Jacques laughed and kissed Larry's cheek, then the corner of his mouth, and the tips of his ears. "Of course you're extraordinary, I just don't want you to get hurt."

"I'll be fine, Jacques."

He returned to kissing Larry fully on the mouth. "Good. 'An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of care.'"

"What was that you were saying about shutting up and kissing?" Larry snarked.

Jacques grinned, leaning forward to do just that. "Pardon me for wanting to recite quotes about your extraordinary existence."

"Extraordinary," Larry scoffed, though he didn't complain when Jacques' hand trailed over his chest and down his stomach.

"Quite." He mouthed at Larry's neck, eliciting a gasp from the latter. His hand dipped under the waistband of Larry's pajama pants, though still over his boxers, brushing teasingly along Larry's growing erection.

For his part, Larry moved his hands slowly to rest on Jacques' broad shoulders. Even through the fabric of the cotton shirt, he could feel the warmth radiating from Jacques' body and thought vividly of the sun, of supernovas and Christmas fireplaces, of candlelight and campfires.

Brilliant and beautiful, all encompassing and if Larry wasn't careful, he could easily become Icarus falling into the welcoming embrace of the world's star.

Jacques' palm brushing deliberately over Larry's erection brought him back to the present and he gasped, a hushed noise muffled by Jacques' mouth as he pressed a hard kiss to Larry's.

Larry shifted his right leg, which fell rather conveniently between Jacques own legs, and quickly became aware of his own growing need. Intentionally, though he'd never say so aloud, Larry pushed his leg up to press purposefully against Jacques, who groaned in response.

"Not very fair of you," he sighed into Larry's mouth.

"All's fair in love and war," Larry snarked, though any future remark vanished from his mind at Jacques' hand wrapping around his cock and squeezing.

"Uh, did you, uh.. bring.."

"I'm nothing if not prepared."

Jacques leaned over Larry to reach in a nightstand beside their bed, the drawer squeaking slightly in protest when he retrieved the item and closed it. He lowered himself on the bed again before pressing a kiss to the corner of Larry's mouth, who was still winded, now from the light brushing of Jacques' fingers. He withdrew his hand to pour some of the lube from the bottle into it, meanwhile Larry shifted to slip out of his pants.

Jacques' gaze was drunk with pleasure as Larry's pants and boxers drew away from his body to slip off the comforter to the floor. Though he wasn't quite as lean as he once was, Larry liked to think his legs were still fairly toned and, as he slipped off his shirt, his stomach not as pudgy as it could be, though a good portion of it was obstructed by the bandage.

Jacques moved forward, at once whispering, "Beautiful," before pressing a hungry kiss to Larry's mouth and wrapping his now lube covered hand over Larry's cock.

Larry moaned at the feeling of Jacques' firm, calloused hand slipping up and down his cock and tried to give him some of the same delicious friction by moving his leg to press against his erection.

Jacques seemed to move of his own accord, though Larry wasn't entirely sure he was consciously doing it, as he rocked on Larry's leg.

Larry's head fell back on the pillow as Jacques picked up speed, his mouth fallen open in a silent portrait of pleasure as Jacques kissed a trail down his throat and chest.

As he felt Jacques' rocking increase in time with his hand on Larry's cock, Larry gasped, though not completely out of utter bliss; though the situation the two were in proved heavenly, Larry didn't want the night to end like this. He felt a pang of remorse when he placed a hand on Jacques wrist and stilled his leg, though it was replaced shortly with a twinge of desire at seeing how far gone Jacques appeared.

"Wait," he said and Jacques lifted off him, providing space for Larry, "I.. don't want the night to just be this. I mean, this is great, but I.."

"Yes? We can stop, at anytime, you know," Jacques assured him, the assurance sending a wave of adoration through Larry as, even in the bouts of unresolved tension, Jacques was still thinking of him.

"No, Jacques, I don't want to stop. I want.." Larry took a deep breath, searching Jacques' gaze for a moment before he finished, "I want you.. inside of me."

Jacques' expression looked laughably startled before melting into a flicker of desire that could, Larry knew, quickly become a forest fire. As Jacques nodded and Larry kissed him, he knew that in this scenario, he was the forest.

He also knew he wouldn't be afraid to burn.

Jacques hand fell back on Larry's, now slightly less so, erection, though his strokes were less firm and lazier.

His other hand, which had previously been interlocked with Larry's, picked the lube bottle up from the covers and applied a generous amount on his fingers. He broke off the kiss, a bemused look on his face.

"What?"

"It appears I should have taken off my clothes before having my hands.. preoccupied," Jacques answered.

Larry laughed in response, short and sweet, before his hands slipped down Jacques' chest to rest at the hem of his shirt, until slipping underneath. Larry shouldn't have been surprised to feel hard muscle rippling beneath his fingertips, but the thought of seeing it, of Jacques laid bare before him, quickly had more blood rushing south than Larry cared to admit.

He pushed Jacques' shirt upward before slipping it from his torso completely. He pressed a quick kiss to his jaw, fingers now tracing the waistband of black pajama bottoms as he looked down to drink in the sight of Jacques' wide, musculed abdomen like a man stumbling on an oasis in the desert.

He pushed the bottoms down, too, along with Jacques' boxers, to join his shirt and Larry's clothes on the floor. He showered Jacques in kisses, all along his shoulders and chest and chin, enough so that the storm outside would grow jealous.

"Jacques," Larry sounded breathless to his own ears, though he didn't mind; Jacques could steal his breath just as drowning in the ocean might, only here Larry could drown in Jacques and get drunk on him.

He smiled down at Larry, dark chocolate eyes alight with a glow from the bedside lamp.

"Yes?"

"I know time isn't exactly kind to us, but.." Larry began to answer, "Tonight, I-I want you, Jacques. All of you."

"You do?"

"Yes, I do."

Jacques' eyes searched Larry's for a moment more before he leaned forward to capture the latter in a kiss. Like a caged butterfly, though lacking any want to escape; like Icarus caught in cruel, welcoming Sun's embrace. He would burn to nothing, he knew, not even ashes a mark of his existence, if he let himself fall so close to Jacques.

But he didn't mind. As Jacques continued his ministrations, adding his other hand to coax Larry into relaxation while working his fingers inside, Larry felt at peace with being Icarus consumed by the world's star.

In still moments, Jacques was candlelight, flickering and a little mischievous, but a steady source of light all the same.

Larry shivered as he felt Jacques work in a second finger and he took deep, grounding breaths to aid in relaxing.

As he leaned up for a kiss, Larry knew in a moment like this, Jacques was the sparks of rekindled embers; comparable to warm Christmas fireplaces and cozy campfires, he proved steady and comforting, but in his passion, he was unforgiving; a growing forest fire that could consume Larry wholly and unapologetically.

Three fingers inside of him, a noise between a whimper and a moan caught in Larry's throat as Jacques brushed against that spot inside of him, sending sunbursts behind his eyes and electricity buzzing through his veins.

Jacques kissed Larry sweetly, putting hot chocolate and marshmallows and sugary sweets to shame, as he coated his erection and aligned it with Larry's hole.

He pushed in carefully at a languid pace that drove Larry mad, the aching want he felt all over urging him to ignore caution and charge ahead, but Larry felt a sharp pang of adoration for the care Jacques demonstrated.

Jacques moved lightly in and out of Larry, finding his left hand and intertwining their fingers. He kissed Larry all over, from his cheeks to his lips to his jaw to his chin to his neck and sternum. His other hand rested gingerly on Larry's hip, his thumb brushing a scar acquired from their younger years as his pace began to quicken.

His thrusts grew deeper and his kisses open-mouthed, hungry, and desperate for something neither of them could quite name. Larry was sure the rush of admiration he felt for Jacques was palable, as sharp and stinging as the smell of rain.

He would suffocate in it, he knew, his care for this man; if he be Icarus, let him fall; let him be consumed by sunbursts and fiery flames, solar flares and stardust; Larry was prepared for Jacques to kiss away rationale and time, until both meant nothing as the world went on without them, until they were the world and nothing else existed. Larry drunk in the sight of Jacques above him, flushed with exertion and gaze dark with desire, with something else Larry couldn't name. He was temptation, sure to burn Larry's wings, to save and give because that's what he did; when Larry fell, Jacques would catch him; Jacques was protective, fierce and burning with ardor, prowess, and power; he was a true martyr, ready to give until he had nothing left to.

And Larry loved him for it.

Waves of ecstasy crashed over Larry as Jacques kissed him, over and over, stroking his cock and thrusting inside him. All the while, Larry repeated words religiously, caught in the throes of fulfilment and euphoria.

"I love you," he said, like a prayer on his lips.

Jacques thrusted deeply into Larry, pressing a kiss to his sore mouth as he reached his own peak. "I love you, too."

After cleaning up and settling in, both men noticed the storm had passed and took with it the cold and constant drumming. They laid in bed, Larry more on Jacques than the bed itself. Jacques, for his part, wrapped his arm, whether in comfort or protectiveness Larry wasn't certain, around Larry while his left hand held Larry's right, resting on his chest. Jacques' thumb traced patterns likely only he could decipher the meanings of as they laid together.

"We're getting a bit old to start doing this every night," Jacques joked.

"You mean I'm getting old," Larry remarked with no real venom, "We don't have to do this every night, though. We were fortunate enough to have tonight, but we can always just lay here and rest like we are now."

Jacques nodded in agreement, placing a kiss on the top of Larry's head. "That's a fair point," he admitted, "But for now, we should get some sleep."

He leaned over to turn off the beside lamp and the room was washed in a comfortable darkness, like the night sky without stars.

Struck by inspiration, Larry recalled a particular work that he recited to Jacques, "'There is a candle in your heart, ready to be kindled. There is a void in your soul, ready to be filled. You feel it, don't you?'"

Jacques smiled at him, kissing his cheek before responding, "'So, I love you because the entire universe conspired to help me find you.'"

Larry kissed Jacques on the mouth before whispering, "I'm glad it did. We've got a big day tomorrow, let's get some sleep."

Jacques kissed him back, short and sweet, "Let's. Goodnight, Larry."

"Goodnight, Jacques."

And wrapped in each other's arms, Larry didn't quite feel like Icarus perishing or Persephone falling to the underworld but instead felt whole and happy, incurably so, as he fell soundly asleep in Jacques' warm embrace.


End file.
